


Birthday

by orphan_account



Category: We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson
Genre: F/F, Gen, Suicide Pact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Katherine and Constance know that they can't always stay in the castle. It is Merricat's birthday, Jonas is dead, and they decide their remaining future. After Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I recommend this novel for its unreliable narrator, and an atmosphere of dread that I always try to invoke but fall short.

Jonas is dead. I saw him by the front door, as if he was about to try going outside to die. It was early morning, there was no sun, so it was safe to go out and bury him by the orchard. His head was limp against my arm as I stroked his fur for the last time. I dug a hole three feet deep in a spot near the trees where we used to visit.

Before, a long time ago it seems, I had laid on the soft bed of twigs and dry leaves between the apple trees. The leaves above me were so dense it was dark here even if it was noon time. Jonas and me used to talk here, him telling me stories about his mother, the usual stories cats talk about. I lay him down in a position that will be comfortable for him, snug in a little hole, and covered him with soil. I brought a lantern with me. I hurried back home after I was done.

When I opened the front door, Constance was waiting for me. I locked it again with our many bolts and padlocks.

"Jonas died. I buried him outside," I said. Then, we walked back to the kitchen and slept on my mattress on the floor.

I woke again from smelling the breakfast Constance was preparing. Fried eggs, and some coffee the others have left on the door. It was our day to neaten the house, dusting off the things we have left. Constance did the laundry on the sink and I swept off the rest of the space outside.

We finished during noon, and we had lunch of roasted chicken and bread. Then Constance surprised me with cake, a round one with pale pink frosting and bright yellow icing on the edges. Written on it in bright jelly-red was,  _Happy Birthday, my Merricat._ We have covered our windows that it was dark now, but after so long we have become used to it. There was one, tiny birthday candle on the cake.

"Do you know what date is it now, Merricat? You're twenty years old now. Happy birthday," she said, and I realized that two years has passed since we locked ourselves in here. I was eighteen when the house burned down, when the villagers went here to revel in the destruction and wished us harm. Now they will never see us. I imagine sometimes, that we are already on the moon, alone and happy.

"How did you know, Constance? I don't even count the days anymore. I guess I will have cake. But it's really sad, that Jonas isn't here to eat cake with me," I said, and blew off the fire from the candle.

"You told me you always wanted to have a cake to eat with him - pink and gold frosting, you said, right? Too bad. Do you think we can ask them for a kitten, or a new calendar?"

Constance showed me a calendar owned by Uncle Julian before he died, and I saw that she marks off the passing days with a pen. But that calendar was only for this year. We don't need clocks anymore, I guess the time for her. We had enough food, and enough books, and I didn't need anything more than Constance, food, books, and water. Constance combed my hair every morning, now so long that they reach my thighs. She braids it since it was always unkempt, not proper for a lady she says, so she fixes it. I wear dresses out of old tablecloths, she wears Uncle Julian's shirts and suits.

During the day, there are people outside the house. Children playing on the lawn, and sometimes they try to shout things to us. They bring food. When we decided to stay here in our castle, we were afraid that we were going to run out of supplies. We still had a barricaded garden near our kitchen, for Constance's herbs and vergetables. It turned out food was no problem, as those people who hated us before became guilty and their way to atone for it was to leave food at our doorstep. Constance always cleans their baskets and cloth napkins before she places them back outside the door for them to get.

I'd like to imagine that this house, our castle, was a kind of temple for their offerings, as if we were little spirits. That if they ever forget us, they would never be favored by luck. Those packages still has notes asking for our forgiveness when they destroyed the things in our house. I don't feel anything about it.

This afternoon, someone talked to us. I was sitting near the front door, watching through the little glass near the door. I can see out, but they can't see me. I heard someone leave a basket of food, and she spoke. She told the story all over again. Sometimes I think that Constance and me are on the moon now, on the dark side where the sun never shines.

"I don't know if you're listening to me at all. I wasn't here, but they told me the story. They accused one of you of killing the family, and the village hated you. When the house burned, the mob came and destroyed all they can in your house. I just want you to know that everyone is sorry, that they blame themselves for you staying in here. They say that they didn't know what came over them that day. We hope you're okay. We know you're there because you leave the food baskets empty and clean each morning. Goodbye," she said, and I felt my tears wet my cheeks for no reason. Maybe, I was crying because I miss Jonas. I wish that I would find a kitten, but no one will ever replace Jonas.

"We are so happy here, me and Constance," I answered her, and her eyes went wide in fear and she ran away. I smiled. They are so easily scared. This is the first time I said a thing to someone outside.

When I went back to our kitchen, Constance was sitting there, her cup of tea and cake slice untouched. She smiled at me, I went to her and kissed her lips and she let me. I didn't taste anything but water.

"Constance, on the moon there is endless food, and there is Jonas playing with horses with wings."

"Yes, and we will build a grander house there. On the moon there is always daylight, and we will plant trees it is as happy there as here, but better."

Then I wondered, that what if I find Constance not breathing one day, just like Jonas? I wouldn't know what to do. And I hated myself for thinking such things, of Constance leaving me. Maybe, we can drink poison together, so no one will leave the other. I can look for death cup mushrooms, of hemlock herbs. But I don't want that to happen just yet. I still wanted to eat her cakes, but I when I die I wouldn't feel a thing, right?

"Constance, would you like to go to the moon? We will mix arsenic with our sugar, cook  _amanita phalloides_  salad, have hemlock tea. That will make the horses with wings appear, and they will take us there."

Then Constance holds me and hugs me fiercely, and she was crying. For me. For our dead family, and our castle.

"Don't cry. You said we're happy, right? You'll never leave me, and I will never leave you," and she smiled, her eyes closed, and nodded.

"I had to bear your sins for you." It was Constance they thought the murderess, the one who killed our entire family. I did that. It was from a lifetime ago, like a dream.

And she says yes. When the right time comes, we will. And it will be happy there.


End file.
